


Everything You Wanted

by emeraldvixen



Series: WTHH verse [2]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dry Humping, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hopefully not in a squicky way, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Prince!Klaus, Romance, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Werewolf!Klaus, Witch!Caroline, courting, royal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29377332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldvixen/pseuds/emeraldvixen
Summary: A sequel to Worst Things Have Happened AND Could I Choose You?orThe happy ending we all deserve.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Series: WTHH verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158008
Comments: 42
Kudos: 75





	Everything You Wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yokan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yokan/gifts).



> Hi friends, 
> 
> This work is a sequel. It will make absolutely no sense unless you read the Klaroline one-shot work [Worst Things Have Happened by Yokan](https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/25773028) and then the follow up which I wrote, [Could I Choose You?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761624)
> 
> Huge thanks to Yokan for letting me write another sequel, to Recyclings for enough headcanons to fill the whole story, and to BellaMorte180 and the many, many other wonderful people on the Klaroline Discord for helping me out with this story over and over again.
> 
> It's a long one, please stick with it...

**THIS WORK IS A SEQUEL. IT WILL NOT MAKE SENSE UNLESS YOU HAVE READ YOKAN'S WORST THINGS HAVE HAPPENED and CAN I CHOOSE YOU?**   
  
By the time Kol finally lets Caroline go (after four dances this time), the wedding has descended, as weddings tend to do, into a glorified, drunken party. She tries to hide how out of breath she is when she walks back to the corner.

It’s empty as usual. Small mercies.

She’s hidden a little by the tall potted plants and the shadows they cast, and so finally lets herself pant. As she catches her breath, she enjoys the sight of the crowd. Some are seated at tables, sipping wine and exchanging gossip. Some are standing in small huddles, bent in close to hear one another over the sound of the band. Some are still spinning around the dance floor.

Caroline isn’t drunk. She had allowed herself a glass of champagne with dinner, but nothing since. Her mother had always warned her that alcohol and magic didn’t mix, and well, tonight wouldn’t be a good time to find out for herself. It’s clear that plenty in attendance have no such concerns though. Lord Saltzman is having trouble standing up, and so has propped himself up against the back of a chair. April Young is sitting some way away, her eyelids flickering as though she could sleep at any minute. On the dance floor, Kol has chosen a new victim to terrorise.

Turns out, his dancing is even worse when he’s drunk.

Still, she can’t help but be amazed. She’s never been to a royal wedding before, and the sight is truly a marvel. The ballroom is as beautiful as ever - more so, even. It’s the first time it’s been occupied since the suitor ball. Back then, she’d thought that it couldn’t get much prettier. Turns out the palace saves a very special set of glittering decorations just for royal weddings.

The ballroom sparkles.

Caroline finds herself searching for him. It’s become something of a habit over the years, but Klaus feels like a comfort blanket and she’s reluctant to let him out of sight.

It’s not hard to spot him. The Mikaelson’s are such wonderful dancers (for the most part), and so he and Rebekah stand out amongst the general population of inexperienced youngsters and drunken elders. She watches him twirl his sister around the floor with a growing affection in her chest.

The morning after she’d given him the moonlight ring, Caroline had dozed in his arms all the way home. She was surprised when Klaus had walked her all the way up to her room, but it had all made sense when he kissed her again - guards tended not to patrol the sorceress’ corridors for fear of flying potions and volatile curses.

Right outside her door, Klaus had kissed her long and slow, until she had half a mind to pull him inside.

He’d muttered a goodbye and left her to sleep.

For a few blissful hours, she had. Around midday, a brunch she’d never requested arrived with a handwritten note:

_Stables? 3pm._

That was how it all started; with a ride along the river bank and a bouquet of flowers when she’d returned. Those had a note too.

_Breakfast tomorrow? Fondly, Klaus_

Caroline had tried to stifle the grin which spread as her heart leapt, but there was no hiding the sheer delight. How had he even sent for them? She hadn’t left his side but ten minutes ago?

Her mother had eyed her from across their living space.

“Is the Prince courting you?” she had asked quietly.

“Yes.” Caroline replied.

Liz nodded, but she did not share the same confidence her daughter carried. “I had heard as much.”

That made Caroline stand a little taller.

“The council is not best pleased, but Elijah has given the Prince his approval.”

She knew what her mother was getting at, but there was nothing which would have dampened down her mood that day.

Liz probably knew that too, because after a minute of staring intently, she had let the tiniest of smiles slip. “Be careful,” she had muttered, before turning back to start the dinner.

It was hard to heed any warnings when Caroline was kept so busy, though. The next morning she had realised that just about every person in the castle was looking at her quite differently.

“Go on then. Tell me what they’re saying about us,” she asked on the second day as they sat in the library.

Klaus had just rolled his eyes and moved his knight to C4.

“Seriously?”

“Some believe that you have bewitched me, others that you have stopped our affair. All believe that I am simply desperate to get back in your good graces.”

Caroline snorted. “Wow. I’m not sure whether to be flattered or disgusted.”

“Choose flattered. The whole kingdom shall think that you are either the finest sorceress in all the land, or the best beneath the sheets. Both are desirable qualities.”

She’d blushed red at that but laughed all the same.

They fell back into a routine easily - before the suitor ball, they’d spent a great deal of each day with one another. While Klaus had frequent royal duties, and Caroline magic lessons, he sought her out often. In the morning, she’d find a note slipped under her door with a time and place. In the evening, she’d return to something new - a bracelet, a drawing, a book.

It was - truly - everything she wanted, even down to their childish bickering. Klaus was warm and charming and chivalrous, but he was all of those things before he had begun their courtship. What she loved most of all was how obvious the Prince was in his intentions.

Regardless of who was watching, Klaus took every opportunity to touch her. Wherever they walked together, he’d lace her arm with his. Every time they met, he’d catch her hand and press his lips to it. When they parted, he’d sneak a kiss on her cheek.

The guards seemed to watch them from all angles. Word had trickled down from the council and it seemed as though everyone in the palace - and indeed half the city outside - knew of their courting.

Caroline managed three days of his affections before she had longed for a proper kiss again, but with so many eyes on them, the risk of being caught was simply too high. Lewd activities outside of the city grounds and away from prying eyes were one thing, being spotted under the palace roof was another entirely. She could handle rumours and hearsay, but to actually be seen so indecently would be the worst kind of stain on her reputation - the kind that would cost her dearly in the future, when she was ready to take her mother’s seat on the council.

Besides, there was never the opportunity to be anything but virtuous. Where the pair used to be left in peace to wander the halls together, there now seemed to be a constantly revolving cast of onlookers interrupting them - patrolling, looking for someone else, or else seeking something in the room they had chosen.

It amused Caroline to no end how irritated Klaus became whenever the door creaked open.

It also hadn’t helped that, with time, Klaus grew bolder. His cheek kisses moved closer to her lips, his hands lingered on her waist, and he often stood closer to her than was socially acceptable.

For the most part, Caroline didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she grew hungry for it.

Once she knew the taste of his lips, the press of his body, and the sound of his voice whispering in her ear, she was hooked. While they couldn’t speak about it in polite company, she liked to think he felt the same. And god, there was nothing more irksome than when he flirted brazenly, daring to look at her lips as if trying to provoke her to scandal. On the other hand, there was nothing more satisfying than watching the smirk morph into something more dangerous when she finally flirted back.

A tiny smile spreads as she watches him on the dance floor. He leads Rebekah around with an effortless elegance which all Mikaelson’s - except Kol - seem to possess.

Caroline’s trying to mask the fondness which swells in her chest when she notices the King eyeing her intently. He’s near. As soon as their eyes meet, he moves closer.

“Your Majesty,” she blushes, ducking her head as Elijah shifts to stand alongside her.

He looks immaculate. What’s new?

“Caroline,” he hums just loud enough to be heard over the music.

Even though they are tucked away in a corner, she can feel eyes watching them now.

She used to avert her gaze. Now, she meets the stares head on.

They break before she does.

When she turns back to the dancing, she thinks of the last time she was this close to the King. The lighting was similar, the ballroom just as busy, but it had felt different.

 _She_ had felt different.

As they watch the party, Caroline waits for him to speak. The tune the band is playing seems to stretch on and on. She’s hyper aware of him next to her - a foreign presence in a space she’s long-recognised as hers. He is so close, too. Less than an arm's length, but far enough that she doesn’t feel his body heat.

That’s a good thing - the hall is warm enough already.

Caroline would feel a lot more comfortable if they were talking, but isn’t that a rule around royals? Don’t speak until you’re spoken too?

“Have you had a pleasant day?”

_Oh crap._

“Yes, thank you,” she replies quickly.

He doesn’t respond.

Caroline thumbs at the fabric of her dress. It’s tight and well-boned. After hours and hours, she’s wishing she could take it off.

“And thank you,” she adds, “for what you said to the council. I know your blessing goes a long way, and I appreciate it.”

Her focus is trained on the crowd, but she can feel Elijah watching her. His stare is so intense.

Caroline shifts uncomfortably and tries to think of an acceptable excuse to leave so soon.

Luckily, the King looks away quickly.

“On the contrary, you are saving us all from a lifetime of Niklaus’ famous misery. The kingdom owes you a great debt.”

Caroline doesn’t try to stifle the chuckle. Who’d have thought that the man dancing with his sister, with such fondness colouring his features, could be a true terror?

“He’s not so bad.”

“No,” the King agrees.

They fall silent again and Caroline feels the awkwardness roar back to life.

It had been hardly two weeks into their courting that Klaus had broken. First, he’d insisted that she walk him to his private quarters. Then, instead of pressing a kiss to her cheek and bidding her a goodnight as a gentleman should, he’d taken her hand and pulled her inside.

Caroline had panicked. It would have taken just one passerby to see them for a great scandal to unfold.

Then of course came the realisation that she was standing in his _private quarters_. She’d only been there once before - directly after his father’s death - when dire circumstances had granted a little leeway. She had no such excuse that night.

Before she could lash out at him for making such a rash move, Klaus had pushed her up against the wall.

His kiss had smothered the frustration well enough.

He’d held her as though she was delicate, but his kiss was deep, slow and all-encompassing.

Caroline had gasped into his mouth at the electricity.

Klaus seemed to enjoy that. He’d wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body tight against his own. By the time he pulled away to press his lips to her forehead, she was breathing hard.

“I can’t be here.”

“There is no one outside, I made sure that the guards would be otherwise engaged,” he mumbled against her hair, “forgive me, love, but I wanted you alone.”

There was temptation to snap at him, but his embrace was warm and comfortable and Caroline had done little but imagine it for the past two weeks. And so, instead of biting, she had wound her arms around his neck. “You had me alone this morning.”

“But I couldn’t touch you.”

Not technically true of course. He spent a great deal of their time together making excuses to touch her, but she’d known what he’d meant.

Klaus had loosened his grip first. His fingers pressed through her hair, cradling her face and tilting it back to meet his.

“I understand that you want a normal courtship,” he’d muttered, “but I am reluctant to advocate for all aspects of it.”

Was it the heat from the crackling fire, the weeks of repressed feelings, or just how sinful he looked in the low light?

In hindsight, all of the above.

Caroline hadn’t offered a reply beyond how she’d pulled him down and licked into his mouth.

After that, it had been easy to get lost in the feeling of his hands, his lips, his form. Even the memory of it has her face flushing.

They’d stayed that way until deep kisses had become harsh and demanding. He’d just earned the most delicious sound from her when the distinctive tap of hard-soled shoes on the stone flags sounded from outside the door.

Both froze, eyes wide with panic.

“What was that?” she’d breathed, but Klaus had already pulled her from the wall.

“Through there,” he snapped, motioning to a doorway.

Caroline only just managed to duck through it and behind the wall when the scrape of the other door had rang out.

“Elijah.”

Caroline had cursed herself. What kind of lady of the court allows themselves to get into such a situation?

“Brother.” Elijah’s voice was clear, but relaxed. “Are you alone?” he had asked, and Caroline had only flapped more. Had she left something through there? Was her perfume lingering in the air, or had he seen a flash of her skirt?

“Yes,” Klaus had growled.

Elijah chose to ignore his foul mood and continued on with the graciousness Caroline had come to expect. “Good. I was hoping that you could explain to me why you are not yet engaged.”

Her chest was tight, her heartbeat throbbing in her ears. She shouldn’t have been there - it was a private conversation, but it wasn’t as though she could close the door without the King noticing. Caroline had glanced around the room, taking in the ridiculously large furniture.

Great. She was in his bedroom.

“Lady Caroline wanted a courtship,” she had heard Klaus reply.

“She’s had one. Lasting three years, I believe.”

“Hardly a courtship.”

“Define a courtship for me?” the King had ordered. While his words were laced with authority, his voice wasn’t harsh. “Gifts? Time? Monogamy? Have you not already given her all of this and more?”

“No.”

“Really, brother? I haven’t seen a woman decorate your bed in as long.”

Though no one could see, Caroline’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“They haven’t. But I shan’t pass off three years of pleasantries as a courtship.”

Three years? He hadn’t bedded a lady in _three years?!_

Despite being in another room, Caroline had heard the King’s sigh. She had to imagine the accompanying eyeroll. “If you are sure that there is no other woman for you—”

“There is not.”

“—then propose. I have held the council off for long enough. It will be easier to conduct our affairs when we have an engagement to announce.”

“You’ll have one when I have finished courting her properly.” Klaus’ tone was firm, and the thought of him aiming it at the King did funny things to Caroline’s stomach. She couldn’t see them, but she could visualise the arrogant jut of his chin well enough.

“Do it soon.” There was no doubt that it was an order.

“Would you force her hand?” Klaus had snapped back, “when she has sacrificed so much for this family already?”

It was quiet for a second, and then Elijah replied, “do it soon. For all our sakes, this matter is best dealt with swiftly.”

Then, Caroline heard the click of shoes on concrete, the scrape of the door shut, the echoing of footsteps fading away. There was silence. She waited a full minute before moving.

When she did, the adrenaline lit up in her veins.

He was standing right where she left him, but his brow was furrowed.

“Caroline, I’m—”

In hindsight, perhaps she shouldn’t have jumped him the way she did, but in the moment it had felt like a perfectly reasonable response.

When her lips met his, the atmosphere had turned instantly. Even thinking back on it, Caroline can’t help the twitch of her thighs at the memory.

Klaus had caught her easily, with strong arms and a firm body. His tongue had flicked against hers over and over, and it still hadn’t been enough. Caroline had whined, tugging at his collar until he’d walked them over to the chaise and pushed until her knees buckled.

God, he could kiss. When they’d broken apart and Klaus had regarded her with dark eyes and parted lips, Caroline had felt all kinds of wanton. When he leaned down and kissed her again, she had moaned her encouragement.

Klaus’ reaction… well, she’d thought of it many times since. Usually alone in her bed, with her hands wandering where they may, but other times too, like when they passed in the corridors and he pierced her with his gaze, or when he was tacking a horse in the stables and she caught herself focusing on the movement of his fingers.

Those hands had held her tight as she struggled to keep up with his demanding tongue. She should have been ashamed of the way her legs had spread to fit him between, but delight at the run of his palms over clothed thighs had outweighed her chasteness.

The memory of it has her squirming.

She’d squirmed then too, desperate for something she didn’t fully comprehend at the time. All she’d known was the sensation and how good it’d felt to have him so close.

Caroline had gasped into his mouth when his hand had curved around her thigh. His fingertips had been dangerously close to where she was hottest.

Klaus hadn’t missed a beat. He’d ducked lower to mouth at her pulse point. She’d arched into him and keened at the feeling of sucking kisses and the scraping of teeth.

Just about then, the door swung open.

Again, in hindsight, Caroline should have just frozen, or else curled closer into him and hidden her face. Instead, in the shock of panic, she’d sat up.

Klaus turned sharply, ready to bite out a threat to whoever had interrupted.

In the doorway, Elijah leveled them with the most disapproving look a human could muster.

What’s worse was that he didn’t even look at _her_ beyond a fleeting glance.

He hardly even registered that it was Caroline before he stared daggers at Klaus.

With a raise of his eyebrows, the King had backed up and shut the door again.

At the time, Caroline was terrified. It was as though she’d been dipped in an ice bath, and all the heat of the last few minutes had left her in one fell swoop. Klaus had been quick to reassure her that his brother wouldn’t tell a soul, but she’d been beyond anxious for days after. Even beyond that, she’d refused to be alone with Klaus for weeks. While he’d still sneak kisses to her hand and cheek in public, Caroline made sure that they didn’t put themselves in such a compromising position again.

So yes, standing next to the King causes Caroline to flush bright pink. She hasn’t had a conversation with him since, nor any real interactions beyond polite nods when they passed each other in the corridors.

She has an urge to fill the space between them. “My mother mentioned that some allies were unhappy with the situation, me being what I am.”

“Yes.” Elijah hums back, “though they shan’t be allies for long if they cannot make peace with it. If you are to be a part of this household, you will come to realise that family is above all. That includes allies.”

Despite her reservations, she turns to look at him. Elijah carries a flute of champagne in one hand, and an air of dignity in the other. Dignity which she can’t claim to have around him anymore, she supposes. As she shifts her weight from the wall, the King meets her gaze head on.

Caroline nods a little. It’s something Klaus takes to heart too - forever and always, and all that. She doesn’t get it and she’s not sure she ever will, but she’s willing to try.

“Besides,” Elijah continues, “people are afraid of what they do not understand. They’ll change their minds soon enough once they have met you.”

“Sorry?” Caroline balks.

One didn’t simply _meet_ allies. Their envoys when they visited the palace perhaps, but never the allied families themselves.

“Despite Niklaus’ best efforts, he shall take up his duties to the kingdom soon enough. Perhaps you would accompany him on the tour he’s been postponing? There are few people I trust to keep his outbursts at bay, and it is imperative that we do just that.”

The shock hits Caroline first, the delight second. She grins, bowing her head slightly.

Just then, a voice from her right.

“Your Highness,” he purrs in her ear, and she doesn’t feel bad about the eye roll she lets slip.

There are people watching, she knows.

“I won’t ever get used to that,” she breathes back as Klaus tangles his fingers with her own.

She looks up at him, dressed to the nines in the finest jacket a man of the kingdom could wear. Caroline’s stomach flutters a little at the softness in his expression.

“You must. It is your title now, is it not?” he teases.

“Brother,” Elijah greets with a modest nod. “I was just asking Caroline if perhaps she would accompany you on a Royal Tour? I believe our allies in the south would benefit from a visit, don’t you?”

It clicks for Caroline. She’s not sure if she feels used or elated at just how devious the King is becoming.

The irritation crawls across Klaus’ face but a gentle squeeze of his palm seems to distract him. A Royal Tour would be his worst nightmare - pomp, strangers and formalities. But oh, it could be so marvelous too. Traveling from city to city, strengthening relations through diplomacy, gaining knowledge of the allied territories. Just the two of them and their envoy, totally alone for weeks on end. Yes, it would be so marvelous to get out of the palace even just for a while.

“I don’t know, brother. Your allies in the south would hardly welcome a woman with the considerable talents of my wife.”

Caroline falters a little. They wouldn’t exactly be keen on her magic, yes, but couldn’t she overcome that with a little time?

“On the contrary, I think Caroline is a perfect ambassador for the realm. Would you disagree?”

God, Elijah is good.

Caroline watches as Klaus’ expression turns colder still, before setting a gentle palm on his chest. “We’d be grateful for the opportunity, Your Majesty,” she answers for them both, raising her eyebrows at Klaus in challenge.

He doesn’t rise to it, but covers her hand with his.

“Good, perhaps after your honeymoon,” Elijah hums. “Congratulations, brother. You have found a wife far more gracious than yourself. I shall bid you a fine night and many happy years to come.”

As the King walked away, Klaus stole Caroline’s attention, lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers. He paid particular attention to the one now wearing his ring.

“I knew you’d be here,” he muttered.

“Old habits die hard.”

Klaus pins her with a smirk as her hand falls once again to his chest.

Because it can. Because she’s _allowed_ to touch him now.

Well, within reason.

Caroline can’t let herself fall too deep down that rabbit hole, so instead she turns back to the ballroom. The music is still playing, the dancers still spinning, the people sitting around still sipping drinks.

“I always knew it’d be you.”

She chuckles at that, “yeah, right.”

“It’s true. From the very first time you sat next to me and refused to say a word.”

“So alluring.”

“Indeed. You were an enigma,” Klaus grins cheekily, “reserved, quiet, silent in fact. Just as a wife should be.”

Caroline shoots a glare at him, but he’s so damn charming she can’t even hold it without smiling. “You’re so right,” she teases, “you’re very lucky to have me.”

“I am. Though I loath how I’ve hardly had a minute alone with you all day. It is a true tragedy when you look so exquisite.”

For all the time they’ve spent together, she still doesn’t know to respond to that kind of compliment. It’s easier when she can kiss him. It’s late now, hours since they said their vows. Half the room is drunk, and they’re all alone in the corner. Would anyone judge them harshly for a little marital canoodling?

Probably.

She resigns herself to pulling him close until she can feel the heat of his body against her arm. Proximity will have to do.

“I’d have rather been with you,” Caroline hums. “Instead I’ve been re-introduced to at least fifty women who looked down their noses at me the first time we met. It’s taken most of the day to shake them off.”

“You’ll find that being royal makes people act in a very different way, love. I for one am glad that they’ve left me alone. Being a married man has its advantages.”

She can feel him staring, and it’s just… a lot.

It was the little things which had been driving her crazy all day.

Like how he’d looked at her when she walked down the aisle with a dark hunger behind his eyes. Like how his fingers had wandered under the table at dinner, curving around her leg far higher than she could cope with. Like how his hand - usually well placed and modest - had drifted to the curve of her lower back when they’d danced.

Yes, there were advantages to being married.

Klaus was going to show her every single one. He’d promised her as much.

Caroline wants him too, but the nerves still linger.

She changes the subject before his gaze makes her skin tingle. “Lord Saltzman has been rather quiet tonight.”

“To you, perhaps. He’s hardly left Elena alone.”

“Has he spoken to you?”

The honourable Lord hadn’t so much as wished them well after the ceremony and Caroline has a sneaking suspicion that he’s been giving her a wide berth. Probably a good thing, because his biting words still hurt and she’d enjoy the opportunity to rub her new rank in his face.

Thankfully, her irritation just seems to amuse Klaus. “Yes,” he purrs, “though I’d be more than happy to make small talk with him, if you’d like? Perhaps I should reintroduce you. He’ll have to become accustomed to using your new title, after all.”

While Caroline knows that Klaus was pandering to her, she still feels satisfaction at the thought. “Tempting, though I do think the ring on my finger is payback enough.”

Klaus grins, as he always does when she references it.

A month after she’d given him the moonlight ring, they’d gone out to the forest again. With the ring having only been tested once, and appearances to keep up despite the Prince’s courting, it made perfect sense to make their way out of the city. While their hyperness was chalked up to lust by the guards, in truth, they were both simply desperate for some much-needed alone time.

Okay, perhaps it was a little lust, too.

The carriage door had hardly closed when he had pulled her onto his lap and kissed her breathless for the first time in weeks. It was a while before they parted with sweet kisses along their skin, longer still until she could look in his eyes and not give into the attraction.

It felt good to be wrapped up in his arms again, to tuck her nose into the crook of his neck, to feel his lips brush her hairline.

To be perfectly alone.

“If you ever withhold yourself from me again, I think I’ll die,” Klaus had murmured.

And just like that, Caroline realised she’d fallen in love with a man just as dramatic as she was.

When they made it to the woods, she took his hand. For the first time, she’d led him up the path. They’d laughed the whole way, ruthlessly teasing one another while navigating the mess of tree roots.

The setting sun had turned the sky a vibrant red gradient by the time they’d reached the clearing.

She hadn’t hesitated to step into his embrace.

“Are you going to go?” he whispered when the dark had started to slip over them.

Of course, she hadn’t _wanted_ to. The ring had held his wolf at bay for one night, but would it hold for a second?

Caroline was confident, but not confident enough to risk her life. “I’ll go,” she’d grumbled back.

When the moon was high and the forest shadowed, she’d moved from her perch on the fallen hawthorn and taken the long trail back to the clearing. It had been satisfying - but not surprising - to see his pale skin in the moonlight.

As she had gotten closer, he turned his head a little.

“Are you going to put your clothes back on?” she’d teased, though her fingers had reached out to trace the thick, bare muscles of his back.

“Are you going to take yours off?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

It was a cold night, but there was heat beneath her fingertips. She’d be warm enough if she stayed close to him.

“Not even if I say please?”

A part of her wanted to feel more, to map out every line of his skin and trace the ink of sun-faded tattoos. A flush of embarrassment had hit her quick at the memory of the time they’d been caught, of how warm he was on top of her, of how he’d made her feel - all high-strung and wanting.

Caroline had endured three years of promises and thinly-veiled innuendos, and she was certain that he’d deliver on every one of them. If only she’d let him.

Instead, she pretended as though she wasn’t tempted by it.

“Clothes. On. Now.”

“And miss the opportunity to see you blush? No, I don’t think I will.”

He was quick to wrap an arm around her back. Caroline enjoyed the first kiss, though the dotted pecks across her skin tickled and had her trying to wriggle out of his hold.

“No!” she’d gasped. “We are not doing this while you are completely naked _again._ ”

“Why not? I have only fond memories, though it would be significantly better if, this time, you’d just let me loosen your dress—”

“Klaus!” she shrieked, though it quickly became a squeak when his fingers tickled at her sides.

“Perhaps I’ve forgotten the proper order of things. Would you rather confess your feelings for me beforehand?”

Caroline pushed his chest away, letting the cool air soothe her heat in his absence. It took a great deal of strength to wrestle her giggles into a mocking, shocked expression, “I suppose you have forgotten the order, Your Highness. Allow me to refresh your memory. Unless I am sorely mistaken, it was you who divulged your feelings first, not I.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have stepped back. With the extra space between them, she could see the full length of him.

God, what a sinful sight.

“Ah yes, how could I forget? Though it’s hardly a confession if I’ve been telling you for years now, is it?”

“Perhaps you could have been clearer.”

It’s probably a character flaw - that she can’t accept blame when it is certainly hers. He didn’t seem to mind though.

The Prince stepped forward a little, tangling his fingers with hers. “And now?” he whispered, “have I made it clear enough?”

It was dark, but Caroline could see his sincerity just fine. She should have been expecting it really, between his clear courting and the conversation she’d overheard. It was a gentle question, but the force behind it took her breath away.

When Caroline nodded, Klaus sunk to his knee.

“Marry me?”

For many decades to come, Caroline would have to tolerate the incessant teasing at the elegance of her response - “you’re naked?!”

“Marry me anyway.”

Something about the absurdity was delightful. It had filled her heart and healed old wounds, and she’d hardly even breathed out an answer when she grabbed his face and kissed him.

It was Klaus who pulled her down to the ground though.

When she’d drunk in the taste of him and touched as much bare skin as she could stand, Caroline had let him sweeten his pecks until their lips hardly brushed. It was only then that she threw her head back and cackled.

“Klaus! Please, I beg of you! Put some clothes on!”

Eventually he had, and when he’d wrapped her up in his arms, he’d set a little black box in her hands.

Caroline had almost died at the ring, a big diamond thing surrounded with dark gems. Klaus had slipped it on her finger, then held it up against his own.

“I thought the black kyanite was a nice touch.”

It was. The sight of their matching rings - even in the dim light - had stirred a whole host of emotions in her. Caroline stroked her thanks along his hand, but teased him all the same. “You do know that yours was just a gift, right?”

“Was it? I could have sworn that you proposed to me.”

They had dozed until the morning and watched the sunrise over the treetops in a blissful haze.

When the time came, Klaus had stood first before offering her his hand, “Your Highness.”

She’d remember that feeling for a long time. The mix of shock, realisation and delight all wrapped into one. The grin gave her away as she’d sassed, “we’re not married yet, you know.”

“I’m just practising,” he’d replied.

He’d taken to calling her it almost every day, these last few weeks especially. Your Grace. Your Highness. Princess. Even ‘Your Majesty,’ though she was quick to reprimand that one in case fate took it as an invite to harm the King now that the second in line was settling down.

What Caroline had liked - no, loved - the most, is how Klaus hadn’t stopped courting her just because she wore his ring. The gifts came less frequently, but were no less special. His time was more precious too, as they had both been swept up in the wedding preparations and kingdom duties, but still, he had spent every spare minute with her.

While the council had been rather disapproving of Klaus’ choice of a bride, Elijah had announced their engagement too quickly for anyone to try and dissuade him. For that, Caroline was thankful.

As she looks over the ballroom, Caroline decides that Lord Saltzman shan’t bother her anymore, even if he is a total creep and his lusting after a woman half his age.

While the crowd seems to be thinning a little with the children being carried off to bed, the adults are still in fine spirits.

Perhaps it’s a sixth sense, or something you develop when you’re an only child, but just as Caroline is about to turn back to her husband, she sees her mother skimming the room on a mission.

Liz’s eyes lock on hers and Caroline gives her a tiny wave. She pulls her hand from Klaus’ as though she’s been burned, though she immediately misses the comfort of his touch. Even from far away, she can see the curl of her mother’s lips and the knowing eyebrow she raises.

Caroline’s probably blushing. All it takes is an eye roll and a dramatic turn to hide the embarrassment from her mother.

Klaus is watching her with amusement. “The ring on your finger is just the start of your influence, sweetheart. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to best Saltzman in the council halls soon enough.”

When they return from their honeymoon - and wherever Elijah sends them afterwards - they’ll both take their places as members of the royal family. From advising the King to running committees, their lives would look quite different as a married couple in the palace.

And it’s not like Caroline has _enemies_ on the council. Not really. It’s just, over the last few years she’s been privy to the way her mother was overlooked, undermined and underappreciated. Partly because of her gender, but mostly because of the magic in her veins. Under Mikael, Liz had become little more than a glorified Queen’s maid.

And well, while Esther and Liz have a friendship for the ages, Caroline doesn’t intend to be an accessory to the Queen. She wants a seat at the table.

“I don’t care for Saltzman, but I don’t think the council needs to be undermined more than they already have been,” she replies, resisting the urge to step into his arms. “Besides, my mother still has her seat. She might have faked neutrality, but I think she likes the idea of our families together. I caught her smiling at her breakfast this morning - that’s the happiest she’s looked in about a decade.”

“Your mother is a fine woman.”

“Wishing you’d married her instead?”

Klaus laughs, a carefree thing which has people gawking in his direction. “If only she’d accepted my proposal.”

“Gross!” she giggles, turning back to the room.

Caroline fiddles with the rings on her hand, the wedding band sitting on top of the engagement one.

There is heat at her back. She almost steps away before remembering that it’s allowed now - her husband can be this close.

His breath tickles her ear as they survey the party together, “was it everything you wanted, sweetheart?”

Well, the wedding was beautiful, certainly. No one would deny that.

Looking out on the traditional royal settings, Caroline is content.

But everything she wanted? No. It wasn’t everything she’d wanted. And he must know that, because it certainly wasn’t what he’d have chosen, either. Kingdom tradition took precedent over the frivolous wants of the bride and groom. From the venue to the colour scheme, they’d truthfully had very little say at all, despite having to be present at every meeting, every fitting, every tasting.

While it had bothered her greatly in the weeks prior, as she stands with him at her back, she doesn’t mourn what could have been.

So what if she didn’t get to pick her dream wedding dress, when she’d just married a man she’d never dreamed she’d be allowed. When she’d gained a title, status and influence with an ‘I do.” When the prospect of a lifetime with her best friend was sealed with matching bands.

Caroline strokes along the smooth skin of his hand, “what would you do if I said no?”

The nuzzle he gives her neck is risky, but she finds that she doesn’t care about getting caught anymore. After all, what would the ladies of the court say now? That she was a floozie for her husband?

“I don’t think the council, nor my brother would allow us a do-over. I suppose I’d have to make it up to you some other way.”

The lilt in his tone has Caroline’s breath catching. She turns to look over her shoulder. He is so close, looking at her with the characteristic smirk she’s come to love.

That look means temptation.

Perhaps he knows it too, what with how he glances down to her lips. _A dare._

The butterflies which she has struggled to keep smothered all day spring to life. Just one look, and her heart races as though she’s run for miles.

The night is drawing in.

She knows what was expected of her.

Of them.

There are nerves yes, but also anticipation.

Weeks after their engagement had been announced, Caroline had fully embraced the art of making out. Look, being caught by the King had not been her finest moment, but months on, she found that she simply didn’t care about healing her tattered reputation when it came to Klaus. Not if it meant living so chastely. Besides, the council were hardly going to bar her from taking her seat or make her life a living hell if she was married to the King’s brother.

It wasn’t easy, though. When they were courting, there had been eyes on them often. When they were engaged, the couple hardly ever enjoyed a minute alone.

They tried to be creative. The secret passages Klaus used as a young boy had become their chosen spot to rendezvous up until Kol had caught them one Sunday morning. It hadn’t stopped there. A few days later, they’d been interrupted behind a hanging tapestry. Kol again. That really should have stopped them, but given that Kol had just shrugged and called his quest to interrupt them ‘good fun’ when Klaus had threatened to knock his teeth out, it hadn’t.

It wasn’t until they had snuck into the library alone, when Klaus had pressed her up against the history shelves and muttered filthy promises against her lips, that Elijah found them again.

The King had cleared his throat and watched them jump apart.

“Niklaus, a word?”

When Klaus returned minute later, he’d been testy. It’d taken her the best part of a day to find out what his brother had said to alter his mood so dramatically. For all his irritation, Klaus had looked somewhere between amused and proud when he had told her, “he said he wouldn’t let his lecherous brother corrupt a future advisor to the crown under his roof.”

In hindsight, it had been a combination of the stress, the incessant need to think about their wedding (and by association, their wedding night), and the undeniable lust that these incidents left her with, which led to the morning in her bedroom.

When Klaus had come to collect her from her chambers to take a walk into town, Caroline reached for his jacket and pulled him inside.

In her defense, he’d made no complaints when she tugged him down for a searing kiss.

He’d cradled her face and brushed the blonde wisps away. The curl of his smirk against her mouth was delicious.

“Hello, love.”

Caroline’s hands wrapped around his wrists. It took two quick steps for there to be space between them. “My mom’s at the council meeting…” she had breathed.

His gaze darkened, while his dimples made themselves known. Caroline liked that look far more than she should have.

It took all of two seconds for him to lift her in his arms. “Bedroom?”

“That one.”

Klaus had set her on the bed before taking a long look at her space. It wasn’t much - her room didn’t have the four poster bed or dark wooden paneling of his. It was light, with painted walls and sweet, girly details her mother had added when she’d called on Caroline to take up her duty. The last bouquet he had gifted her sat in a vase by the window, his note on the desk, his bracelet on her nightstand.

“You hung it,” he had said.

She’d had to follow his gaze behind her head, to where the painting he’d gifted her so many years ago was framed.

“Yeah. It goes with the room.” Caroline deflected.

“And the note? What’s your excuse for keeping that?”

“I like your handwriting.”

Klaus quirked an eyebrow and kneeled on her quilt. “Had I known you were such a fan, I’d have written you something longer.”

“We’re alone in my bedroom and you want to talk about penmanship?”

“No,” he relented, crawling up the length of her bed to lie beside her. “But I’m sure a lady such as yourself wouldn’t be receptive to my desires at the current moment.”

Caroline grinned, stroking along the soft fabric of his jacket and biting back a shiver. While she had convinced him to wait until their wedding night, she had started to regret that decision.

Since their engagement, Klaus had grown handsy. Though often rushed or interrupted, his touch set her alight and left her craving him in wicked ways. Those thoughts haunted her, though they could usually be resolved at night, with her hand between her legs in the bed he had just laid down on.

“Try me,” she said, sitting up until she hovered over him.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” he’d teased, “I wouldn’t want to offend one with such pure sensibilities?”

Caroline scoffed, “what were you trying to tell me the other day? How antiquated the concept of maidenhood is?”

“Perhaps my talk with the King has made me see sense - that your maidenhood is something to be protected.” Klaus lamented, though the way his fingers danced at her back told an entirely different story.

There was such hunger in his face, such blatant want. More than Caroline had ever seen in a person.

“Is that what you think?”

“No. I think it’s completely meaningless and that you should take your dress off now,” Klaus growled.

Stroking along his cheekbone, Caroline rolled her eyes. “If it were meaningless you wouldn’t be so smug about being my first.”

He’d sat up then and pressed his forehead to hers. “I also intend to be your last.”

Emotion swelled in her chest. It was overwhelming and made her feel… well… it was more than she knew how to deal with. Instead of trying to hide it, she leaned in. The first kiss was gentle, just a brush of his lips. The second too, a slow nuzzle to see who’d break first. The third time he kissed her, he pressed her back against the sheets and didn’t stop until she squirmed.

He pulled away first. “Your mother will be back soon.”

Caroline had made a dismissive noise and shook her head, “half an hour, at least.”

“And what would you have us do to fill the time?”

It took everything in her not to hit him, but the dimples on show were too pretty to hurt. When he looked at her like that, she felt a new kind of confidence.

She flipped him easily. Just a gentle press to the shoulder and he was on his back, though he hadn’t anticipated her leg hooking over his hips. She hadn’t really thought it through, but when she straddled his hips, she could feel his body between her legs. Caroline liked it. She also liked how he breathed her name, somewhere between a prayer and a warning.

Before the guilt or embarrassment caught up to her, she’d leaned down and kissed him again. The feeling of his hands curving around her thighs had Caroline gasping into his mouth, giving him ample opportunity to take control.

Klaus dominated, tasting her with a skilled tongue and measured pace. He bit and sucked at her bottom lip until she had the audacity to do it back. His hands teased, running up her sides to squeeze at her waist before stroking down her legs again. Even over her clothes, his hands could caress her until she whined for more.

It was then that Klaus sat up.

Chest to chest, they stilled.

His hands cradled her face, lips wet and parted from where they’d been worked red. As she looked in his eyes, she had realised that soon - very soon - they’d be able to do that whatever they pleased.

The thought had her lips curling.

Klaus wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her chest tight against his. His head ducked down to the tender skin of her neck. The sucking kisses he placed there had made Caroline shudder and tip her head back for more. There was a spot just down from where her pulse beat the strongest that had elicited a loud moan.

Caroline had frozen, surprised that the sound had come from her. Klaus had had no such reservations, and instead gave that one spot a great deal of his attention. Her fingers combed through his hair but made no move to pull him away. The feeling was delicious.

When Klaus had switched to the other side, testing the same spot there, his hands had trailed right down to her behind. That too had drawn a squeak from her.

Klaus had chuckled against her skin as his fingers pressed harder and grabbed handfuls.

The tingling she felt was familiar. She could deal with the burn of his touch, and the urge to arch her back. She could even deal with the wetness between her thighs, when she was alone. As it were, the wetness of her thighs was the last thing on her mind. All she could think about was learning more, touching more, tasting more.

Her lips met his again and instinct took over. With a slow grind, Caroline found the friction she needed against her core. Klaus groaned, a low and deadly thing. His hands gripped her hips and guided her to rock against him.

That second time, she felt the hardness between her legs.

Caroline shuddered, pressing him back down against the mattress. It was different to being alone. Her fingers always felt practiced and controlled. This was a wild, animalistic thing. There was so much fabric between them, and still, the friction was enough to roll her eyes.

She set her hands against his chest as she took her pleasure, risking a look down when he groaned. His lips were parted, brow furrowed, curls untamed, focused on where her pelvis rolled.

Caroline’s breath hitched. Perhaps it was selfish to chase her own gratification, but Klaus didn’t seem to mind when her pace quickened.

Never before had she been so aware of her breasts, nor how tight her bodice felt against them. For just a second, she felt the urge to take it off. But not yet. Not yet. _Not yet._

Her orgasm was a quiet thing, a buck of the hips and then stillness when it broke. She’d shivered at the shockwaves splitting through her. Caroline wasn’t aware of what she sounded like or how she looked, only the relief of sinful pleasure. In the aftermath, she’d leaned forwards to rest her forehead against his shoulder.

In the hush which fell, Klaus had wrapped his arms around her back and pressed sweet kisses against her temple. “Beautiful,” he’d breathed, “you are divine.”

Just a minute later, Caroline went to shift to a more comfortable position, brushed up against his hardness again and found herself on her back. It wasn’t an unwelcome feeling - his hard body between her legs - but it made her pulse jump all the same. There was nowhere to hide on her back, and even as she turned her head away, she could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Don’t be shy, love.”

She’d rolled her eyes and kissed him just to shut him up.

His words had lingered in Caroline’s memory for weeks.

“You’ll do that again for me,” he had murmured against her lips. “When we’re in my bed - once I’ve stripped you naked and made you desperate. Can you feel how much I want you? How much I liked watching you? I loved it, sweetheart. I loved seeing you earn your release.”

He’d trailed a gentle pattern of kisses down her neck, and then lower still, mouthing at the swell of her breasts, at every inch of exposed skin he could find. “When you’re my wife, I’m going to do all kinds of sinful things your body will thank me for. Would you like me to tell you about them?”

Caroline had jolted instead of answering, gasping at the feel of his bare hand against her knee. Her dress had ridden up considerably.

His palm stroked the underside of her thigh. Sharp pangs of arousal shot straight to her centre when his fingers grazed the inside.

She’d whined and arched till his teeth nipped at the soft skin of her chest.

“On second thought, may I show you? Just a tiny glimpse of what awaits you when you say your vows?”

Between the sunny day, his body heat and her dress drawn so tightly around her middle, everything felt hot. When he kissed his way back to her lips and waited for an answer, Caroline found herself nodding.

Klaus’ dimples popped as he looked down at her. One arm slid under her back, the other shamelessly grabbed at her ass. In an impressive show of strength, he lifted her, turned and set her back down. As he moved off the bed to stand, she missed the feeling of his body against hers.

The sight of him was delicious, though. She enjoyed it for a second before noticing the fierce bulge in his trousers.

Then, through the window, the ringing of the city bells sounded. Caroline froze, then yelped as the Prince grabbed her ankles and pulled her half off the bed.

Klaus dropped to his knees, hands digging under her skirt to run over the smooth skin there.

“Klaus,” she had sat up with some urgency, “the council meeting…”

_Ended when the bells were struck._

Klaus just pulled her hips closer to the edge of the bed. To him.

“Lie back, love,” he’d purred as he pressed her skirt up and up, “this won’t take long.”

For some reason, perhaps the burning curiosity, she’d listened. Her dress was lifted higher and higher, until she could see the paleness of her knees exposed.

He’d curled his arms around her thighs and kissed the inside of both before moving higher still. Halfway between horrified and aroused, Caroline couldn’t look. She’d closed her eyes and waited.

First came the air - the cool brush of it when he had finally pushed her skirt around her waist. Then, the gentle tug of his fingers shifting her underwear to the side. And finally, a long lick against her.

Caroline whimpered at the sensation and gripped at the bedsheets as he lapped at her past release. When he turned his attention to her clit, she’d whined. Her reaction must have pleased him greatly, because the Prince did it again and again before switching to flick his tongue against her in a way that made her squirm.

Her hips rolled of their own accord. Klaus groaned, pressing her thighs wider.

She should have been ashamed, really, but all she could think of was how good it felt.

The tight pleasure built in her quickly. She struggled to keep quiet, whimpering and gasping with increasing frequency. Her hips bucked, his hands held them firm. Her eyes rolled, his never lost sight of her. Her back arched, he licked harder.

Harder and harder, until she fell silent, tensing beneath his touch.

Klaus kept going.

Caroline cried loudly. The sharp burst of her orgasm pulsed hot, ripping from her core right up her spine. Every lick after that was heaven, sending more elicit pleasure through her body.

He hadn’t stopped until she’d twitched, whimpering at the sensitivity.

Then Klaus had kissed her thighs once more, straightened her underwear and pulled her dress back down.

She’d sat up slowly, still tingling in the aftershocks of her climax, and watched as he wiped his face before standing.

His hardness was quite obvious then, just below eye level.

“I must go before your mother returns. I’ll wait for you by the gates. Shall we say, half an hour?”

Klaus placed one last kiss on her head before heading straight for the door.

It took a beat for his words to sink in.

“But you didn’t-” she’d started.

He turned.

Caroline couldn’t _say_ it, so with flushed cheeks she let her gaze dip to his crotch and back again.

Klaus smirked something wicked. “By my count, I owe you at least three years worth of pleasure, Your Highness. I take my debt very seriously. Half an hour.”

That was the only time she’d had an insight into what married life would be like. While she’d tried to get just a little more alone time with him, between the wedding planning, her own studies and Klaus’ considerable duties, she’d had no such luck.

Ever since that day a few weeks back, Caroline can’t stop thinking about… _it_.

The thought still turns her cheeks pink, but she’s spent many nights since thinking about what they’d done in her bed, or else imagining he was there with her again. Her fingers and the memory can get her off fine, but they’re not enough anymore. Not when she knows what his tongue feels like between her legs.

He’s still watching her. His hands squeeze her waist playfully, but she knows what he’s thinking of. She’s thinking of it too.

Caroline bites her lip. She knows what she wants, but it’s nerve-wracking all the same.

“Would you...” she begins. There is a fierce heat in her cheeks. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Klaus’ smirk is quick, though it quickly falls away, replaced by a hunger which has her breath hitching. “I want nothing more.”

She finds herself smiling back.

“Why don’t you go ahead, love? I had better inform the King that we’re retiring.”

It’s a quick walk to the door, and while guests greet her along the way, most have already exhausted their pleasantries for the day. None stop her. She’s relieved to make it out of the ballroom without being hounded by her mother. They never were the best at communicating, and Caroline could do without yet another shoddy attempt at a sex talk.

It hits her then. Sex. That’s what they’re going to do.

As she walks up the stairs, away from the festivities and into empty corridors where the music is muffled, Caroline tries to recall everything she knows about it. There are horror stories, silly anecdotes from her time growing up in the village, and Liz’ cringe-worthy attempt at an introduction which came ten years too late.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand the mechanics of it, especially not one who’s seen the Prince in the nude so often.

Still, she is... skittish, perhaps. Intimidated. Self-conscious, mostly, at the idea of being bare before someone in a way she hasn’t been since she was a toddler.

When she had first come to the castle, Caroline had a grace period of a few weeks before her and Klaus had entered into their arrangement. In that time, she’d had just a glimpse of how the other maidens of the court lived. Many were wary of her of course - being the King’s sorceress’ daughter was hardly something she could hide - but a few ladies were comfortable enough to exchange niceties and spill the day’s gossip.

That gossip, she had quickly realised, almost always involved one of two people - Kol, or Klaus. The former was forever playing childish pranks on this or that elder, or else had been caught with his breeches down, usually having defiled a willing young lady’s chastity. The latter was more subtle, but just as regular.

In just two weeks, Caroline had heard of at least a dozen young women who had shared Klaus’ bed - some maidens, some married, hell, even one widowed. She had known before she met him just how little shame he had, but the Prince truly superseded all expectations. In their first few trips away, he had taken every opportunity to coax her into his bed.

When his flirting had fallen flat, he’d taken to making her uncomfortable. And when she was shunned by the other ladies of the court, Klaus had taken over their role, regaling her with the palace gossip and lewd tales of his conquests. It was a sure fire way to shut her up, he had discovered, because for all she’d been taught in the village, Caroline had never learned how to respond when a man spoke of marital affairs.

Klaus had relished in it.

Three years ago, Caroline would have said that it infuriated her. If she was honest with herself, she’d have admitted that it had piqued her curiosity too.

Some eighteen months into their arrangement, when they had fallen into an easy friendship, they had ridden out of the city. They were allowed to be alone back then, and given that they lived under Mikael’s rule, Klaus was quite happy to get away from the palace. The sun had been shining, but the air wasn’t humid. An hour or so out, they had settled in a field where the horses could graze at leisure. Klaus and Caroline had made a picnic from food they had stolen from the kitchens, and it had been then that she finally had her questions answered.

Her queries had been brewing for sometime. As their friendship had grown, his sexual exploits had been banned from conversation, but the curiosity they stirred remained.

Klaus had been flirting, teasing her until her cheeks burned, when she brought them up. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“It’s about…”

“Sex? Ask away.”

Caroline had flinched. Metaphors and allusions were one thing, but hearing the word was another.

She had almost rejected the notion, but then Klaus had persuaded her with charm and a little sincerity. He’d made her feel safe.

Eventually, she’d found the words. “Does it hurt?”

One night a few months prior, her mother had asked her to deliver a potion to the head of the royal guard’s chambers. He was recently married, but knights of the kingdom didn’t receive a honeymoon out of the palace walls. Caroline had been shocked by the noises she’d heard as she’d passed, some of them sounding far more painful than pleasant.

“No.” Klaus had replied instantly, “it shouldn’t. It should feel...”

“Yes?”

“Do you touch yourself?”

Caroline’s jaw had dropped. The _audacity_. “What?!”

“Do you touch yourself?”

She’d sat up and started packing away their belongings.

“It should feel good, sweetheart. Incomparable. I could show you, if you like?”

“No.”

“Pity. Any other questions?”

Caroline glared at him. Klaus had just shrugged and made himself comfortable in the soft grass.

“Yes,” she’d eventually decided, “but I’ll need you to promise me that we’ll never speak of this conversation again.”

“Why? I quite like seeing you blush.”

“Klaus.”

He’d offered her his little finger. Even years later, she still thinks it’s endearing. The Prince of Orleans, reduced to pinkie promises.

When she’d settled on the grass and stared at the sky, she’d pulled out her mental list. “How long does it last?”

“Worried it won’t fit into your busy schedule?” Klaus chuckled at her eye roll. “It varies.”

“How long does it take you?”

“Well… it depends, love. The best sex can last for hours and hours.”

“But it can be shorter?”

“Yes, very short indeed. In fact, we’d have time to spare if we—”

“How many times have you..?”

Klaus had rolled to his side then, “don’t I get a question?”

“Is it about… that?”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

“That’s hardly fair,” he’d teased. “Come on, Caroline. If we’re to pretend that this conversation never happened, why not make it worth both our whiles?”

At the time, she’d grown used to the Prince trying to get his own way. She could have snapped and argued, but that day, her curiosity had won out. “Fine. What did you want to ask me?”

“Do you think about it? Sex.”

The prospect of lying flitted through her mind, but given the topic of conversation, it hadn’t made sense to deny it. “Yes. Now, how many times have you...?”

“Hundreds.”

“Hundreds?!” She’d squeaked, horrified.

“Not hundreds of women. Hundreds of times.”

“How many women?”

Klaud had smirked, “it’s my turn. Do you touch yourself?”

“Yes,” Caroline still remembers how his smile had dropped into something more rapt, “how many women?”

“I can’t say with certainty. More than 50. Why haven’t you..?”

“50?! Ew!”

“It’s not that many, love. Spread out over so many years.”

“God! You’re a…”

“God?”

“A trollop!”

Klaus had laughed at her disgust. “Well, it’s certainly the first time that insult has befallen me. Now, you think about sex, you touch yourself, you know how good it feels. Why haven’t you?”

“I’m not married.”

He’d scoffed at that, “that certainly never stops Kol’s lady friends.”

“That’s not true, I have on good authority that plenty of them are married,” Caroline had snarked. “I know it doesn’t matter much now, but… I don’t know. I suppose it matters to me. Besides, it’s sort of hard to find a partner given the circumstances.”

“Now that’s not entirely accurate either. I’ve offered—”

“I think you have enough notches in your bedpost, don’t you?”

“Hmm, none which are quite as pretty as you though.”

“None with high standards, either.”

His sigh was a fond thing. “Go on. Your turn. Ask me your worst.”

Caroline tried to hide her smile - really, she did - but something about the absurdity just made her giggle. She’d hummed as she chose her question with care. “Can you feel it? Not that… your…”

Klaus narrowed his eyes at her.

“Right now, can you feel like, where it’s… pointing?”

They’d both cackled at that, heads tipped to the sun until tears prickled in her eyes and his dimples were pronounced.

“Yes, always. Like any other part.”

“Weird.”

“Hardly.”

It had fallen quiet as he chose his next question. Caroline picked at the grass beneath them, thinking up her own. Eventually, he had asked, “when you bleed, is it truly an awful kind of pain?”

“Yes.”

“But it’s so little blood?”

Caroline hadn’t thought to ask how he knew how much women bled, but rolled her eyes at his ignorance. “It hurts,” she’d said with a finality she hoped would end the matter.

No such luck.

“Bekah becomes an ogre. I think she’d eat everything out the kitchen if she moved from her bed.”

While Caroline had wanted to laugh, she hadn’t enjoyed his tone. “I’m certain that you and your brothers do very little to help. Do you feed her? Wash her sheets? Are you even nice to her?”

“The Princes of the realm don’t wash bedsheets.”

“Perhaps they’d be more humble if they did.”

“Touche,” Klaus had replied. “I am troubled that you think so low of me. I’m always nice to you, am I not? Now, ask me your questions.”

He might be a prince, but that didn’t mean he had to be an entitled, demanding ass. “No. I think I’ll find someone with more modesty to speak with on such delicate matters.”

“No.” Klaus said it as though it was his decision when the conversation was over. Entitled ass, indeed.

“ _No_?”

Klaus had pinned her with a frown. At the time, Caroline had just chalked it up to his infamous mood swings. Looking back, she wonders if perhaps it was a show of jealousy. She likes the idea more than she should.

“No,” he repeated. “I shan’t have you corrupting the mind of any other man.”

“Your mind is at least ten times filthier than mine.”

“And five times as clever.”

“What was that about being nice?”

Klaus had cracked just the smallest of smiles, then. They’d sat in silence for a minute, enjoying the sunshine and the gentle peace that came with being outside of the city walls.

Eventually, he’d closed his eyes and settled his hands behind his head. “Ask me what you wish. I shall be honest.”

Caroline enjoyed the tiny victory quietly. “You asked two questions, it’s only fair that I have two as well.”

When he hadn’t replied, she’d taken it as confirmation of his agreement.

While it made her uncomfortable to say, she was most curious. “What does _it_ feel like? For you?”

“It feels good, else I wouldn’t bother,” he’d chuckled, “if you touch yourself, you’ll know how it feels.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No. It’s better. It can be.”

“Explain it to me?”

Klaus had been quiet for a minute, as though choosing his words wisely. “When you’re alone, you use your hand. You know where it’s going to be, how hard you’re going to touch. Everything is… expected. Sex isn’t like that.”

Caroline had looked up at the sky and closed her eyes. She had a theory - an idea of what he was trying to say - but her curiosity and his honesty made a tempting combination. “I don’t get it.”

Once again, he’d gone silent. It was for longer that time, and Caroline had thought that that was his way of ending the conversation. She’d listened to the breeze blow through the grass and started to recap the answers he’d already provided when he spoke again. His tone had been low, as though he was letting her in on a secret.

“Imagine a body pressed against your own. Lips kissing every inch of your skin as they strip you bear. Gentle hands stroking every curve, touching you until you’re dripping and making the most sinful sounds. Perhaps they’d start slow, playing with your breasts, licking over your nipples before moving down. Perhaps they’d use their fingers first and tease between your legs. They control the speed, the pressure, how quickly you come apart for them. Then perhaps they’d put their head between your thighs and taste how sweet you are. A hot tongue to drive you to madness. Eventually, they'd fill you again and again until you screamed. You’d be so lost in pleasure, nothing else in the world would matter. That feeling doesn’t come from doing it yourself, it comes when someone does it for you.”

At the time, Caroline had been frozen. She was grateful that her eyes were shut, because she couldn’t bare the thought of his eyes on her while she processed the words.

It had taken time. The silence stretched between them.

He’d broken it sometime later, when their horses were full and the flush had left her cheeks. “I believe it’s your turn to ask another.”

“Does it float?” she’d asked immediately.

“Does what float?”

Caroline let the question hang.

Just like that, they had laughed again. He’d teased her something rotten before he’d finally answered her question.

Ever since they’d rode back from the palace that day, they’d kept their promise. Neither had spoken even a word of what they had learned.

As Caroline walks down empty corridors reliving the memory, she gets lost in the nostalgia of it all. It’s not until she’s standing outside her quarters that she remembers that she’s a married woman now.

These quarters are not her own. Not anymore.

With a sigh, she turns and retraces her steps.

A few hallways later, Caroline walks down Klaus’ corridor. _Their_ corridor. The door is shut… does she open it? It is technically her room now, she supposes. Is he in there already?

She hesitates.

Just as she musters her courage to let herself in, she hears the clicking of footsteps on the flags. She turns just in time to see him rounding the corner.

Does he always smile at her so brightly?

In the face of such obvious joy, she can do little more than grin back.

“Hi,” she squeaks as he picks up the pace.

Klaus doesn’t stop until he’s caught up to her. He picks her up easily, one arm around her waist and the other under her knees.

“Hello, love,” he smiles down at her, pressing open the door and lifting her past the threshold.

Caroline stokes down his face. He’s so damn handsome. He’s _hers_. Her _husband_.

“We got married,” she whispers.

If it’s even possible, his grin stretches wider still. He bypasses the living area and carries her straight to the bedroom. The air is warm. The fire is already crackling and the lamps lit. Caroline wanders if this is what his room is always like, or if he’d had it heated especially for their wedding night.

Klaus sets her down in the middle of the room. His hands stroke over her shoulders to cradle her face. “We did. How does it feel to be a princess?”

She hums softly, holding onto his wrists, “I’m not a princess.”

“You married a prince.”

“I married an egotist.”

“Would you rather I called you Dutchess?”

Caroline laughs softly, but it’s _real_. Her, a Dutchess. “Only if I can call you the Duke of Claiborne at every given opportunity.”

Klaus snorts, dropping his hands to her waist. “I suppose we should try and get used to the titles before the tour you’ve roped us into.”

She laughs louder, wrapping her hands around his neck. “Oh, I do apologise for buying us some extra alone time. I thought you’d be thanking me for a holiday from your regular duties.”

“Swapping regular duties for irregular ones hardly constitutes a holiday.”

“I’m sorry that a month’s trip with your new wife will be such a hardship for you.”

His dimples pop as the devastating smirk makes itself known. “My wife,” he repeats.

The words are heavy.

Klaus doesn’t say anything, but steps away from her and takes her hands.

He leads her over to the mirror - a tall one which stretches from the floor and leans against the wall. He positions her close - two steps and she’d be able to touch the glass with her fingertips.

Caroline looks at herself. It’s a familiar sight of course - no amount of tailoring and expensive jewellery could make her look all that different - but still, she feels more beautiful than she has in a long time. It’s close to what she’d seen that morning, but lived in. Her lipstick has worn off and her hair had loosened. It’s not the dress she’d have picked if she had free reign, but the ivory squeezes her waist and glitters even in the dim light. She’d have worn white, if they’d have let her.

When Klaus wraps his arms around her and hooks his head over her shoulder, she lets the thought go.

“I want to remember this,” Klaus mutters in her ear.

Caroline does too.

In their reflection, she can see how he’s looking at her. It’s not hungry, lustful or even fond, but as though she hung the moon. The sight makes her chest well.

He turns his head, kissing her temple softly. “Beautiful,” he breathes, before he takes a step away.

His fingers are gentle when they reach into her hair and begin untangling the intricate puzzle of clips and pins holding her curls in place. One by one, sections loosen until they fall. When all pins have been placed on the table, Caroline hums at the feeling of his fingers brushing through her hair, massaging at her scalp. With an echoing hum, he nuzzles the tender skin of her neck.

Flashbacks of the time they’d spent alone in her room come back with a vengeance. Her cheeks heat up at the thought. She can’t stop watching as he presses sweet kisses against her skin.

Three years of being a mistress, of having her reputation dragged through the mud by people who didn’t know the truth of the matter, and now this. A pretty dress, a title, a fancy room in the palace. Best of all, Klaus, her husband.

Finally alone.

“May I loosen your dress, love?”

Caroline tenses, not out of nervousness, but anticipation. Her nod is slow, transfixed by the intensity of his gaze in the mirror.

His fingers are quick to undo the tie of her bodice, and then, one painstaking line at a time, he works the ribbon loose from bottom to top.

It’s a relief when she can breathe comfortably again.

Klaus’ fingertips linger on where the bare skin of her shoulder blade meets the fabric. She wonders if he’s giving her time. She doesn’t need it.

“Take off your jacket,” Caroline whispers.

Klaus’ gaze meets hers in the reflection for just a second. He strips off the embroidered jacket he’s been wearing all day, then presses his chest to her back again. This time his hands run over the delicate lace covering her arms.

She moves slowly - not to titillate, but because she forces herself too. Her heart is hammering, but she doesn’t want to rush this.

Klaus loves her. She knows he loves her, and she loves him back.

Perhaps that’s why she feels so timid. Self-consciousness bites at her, knotting her stomach. With shaking hands, she presses the sleeves of her wedding dress from her body.

The dress drops, and in its place, a white chemise hangs. It’s one of the only things she’d actually gotten to choose for her own wedding. She analyses her appearance. It’s so much skin. Her shoulders are covered only by thin straps, and her pale legs are visible from the knee down. Caroline fights the instinct to cover up.

Then she looks at Klaus. Even in the mirror, she can see how his jaw tightens. He doesn’t meet her eyes. His focus trails up and down her body. When he moves, it’s to take off his own shirt.

Caroline has seen him in the nude more times than she can count. This time feels different.

There is an urge to turn around and touch all the heat and muscle he has to offer. She can’t though, because the second Klaus’ shirt drops, he steps close once again and settles his hand on her stomach.

She feels the heat, just a tiny slither of cotton separating them.

“Are you nervous, princess?”

Her first instinct is to chastise him, but she thinks better than to start their petty squabbling now. “A little,” she breathes.

“Don’t be. This will be something you crave for as long as we are together. I have wanted this from the first day we met. I will make this good for you, my love. I swear it.”

Though Caroline heard his vows just a few hours ago, she swears those words feel more sacred than any he’d said before.

She believes him, and so swallows down the apprehension.

His hand runs down her side, her hip, her thigh, until he bends down. With gentle coaxing, he slips her feet out of the uncomfortable heels and sets them aside with her dress. Klaus kicks his own shoes off to the side of the room, then his socks.

The next time his chest presses to her back, she sighs happily. Shutting her eyes is far easier than having to meet the hunger in his gaze, so she leans her head against his shoulder and lets his ungodly warmth surround her.

Klaus makes a pleased noise and ducks down to press kisses along the length of her shoulder. His fingers linger on the strap. “May I?”

Caroline nods again.

He slides it from her and continues the line of kisses until he reaches the top of her arm.

It’s just about then that Caroline’s patience snaps.

She shifts the other strap herself, pushing the fabric down her arm until it too falls to the floor.

Behind her, Klaus groans.

She opens her eyes and embraces the sight as he takes in her reflection.

The dancing light of the fire heats her skin. His hands do too, when he sets them on her waist.

Caroline can feel his chest against her back and his pants a little lower. His fingers trace her stomach, her hips, her ribcage. The feeling of skin-to-skin is foreign, but not unpleasant. In fact, everywhere he touches tingles.

Reaching back, she buries her hand in his curls. Klaus leans back in, mouthing over the juncture where her neck meets her shoulder. The sensation has her sighing.

With a soft touch, Klaus cups her breasts. When his thumbs trace over her nipples, Caroline gasps. The Prince chuckles, repeating the motion until she arches against him. With each gentle swipe, flares of pleasure tighten her core. She is given no warning before he pinches one tight between two fingers. The shock of it draws a surprised keen from her.

“You are so beautiful, love,” he mutters, standing up to full height. His hands move back to her waist, and Caroline very nearly snaps at him for being a tease. “I will spend the rest of my life making you believe it. May I start? I’d like to move from the mirror.”

She takes a deep breath and nods.

Klaus turns her, cradles her face with one hand and leans in for a kiss. Like a match striking card, her whole body comes alight. Caroline groans against his lips, combing her hands through his hair, across his shoulders, down his chest. There is so much skin, so much to feel.

Their tongues play, teasing one another in a flurry of hungry kisses. Without pulling away, he bends and slips his hands around her thighs. Caroline lets him lift her without complaint. Her breasts press tight against his chest, her legs spread to fit him in between, and all it takes is a delicate roll of her hips for her heat to brush against his stomach.

She whines at that, the friction pleasant but fleeting when he sets her down on his bedsheets.

They shift back until her head is propped against fluffy pillows. Klaus crawls forwards, until he hovers over her, balanced on his hands.

Caroline watches as his gaze trails down, taking in the length of her naked body and the spread of her legs. She feels a blush grow on her cheeks. To save herself the embarrassment, she cradles his face and guides his lips back down to hers.

He settles her with deep kisses, the kind which have her whining against his mouth. She can feel his smile against hers, and then the way he rewards her with a playful nibble at her bottom lip.

Klaus moves downwards. He stops for just a second and finds the spot on her neck which makes her moan. It’s a harsh bite, a fierce sucking, and then he moves further.

When he licks her nipple, she gasps. Next comes a wet kiss which has her back arching. His tongue moves fast over the tip, each flick shooting heat down her spine. The scrape of his teeth earn a whimper, then he switches sides to torture the other in a similar fashion. Both nipples are hard and sensitive by the time Klaus kisses her stomach.

His palm traces patterns along the delicate skin of her thighs, closer and closer to where she’s wet and aching. He sits up then and kneels between her legs. She misses the blanket of his body, both for its heat and the shelter it provided.

His fingertips brush up against her centre.

Caroline jolts at the contact. The pressure is so light, so teasing as he gathers up the wetness and spreads it around her clit.

“Alright, princess?” he asks.

She reaches for him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he catches her hand and leans down to press a gentle kiss against her fingers. The hand between her legs traces light circles.

“Alright?” he asks again when he’s let her hand free.

Caroline resists the urge to roll her eyes - she’d be quick to tell him if she didn’t like what he was doing. “Uh huh,” she replies, “more.”

Klaus’ chuckle is a dangerous thing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’ll look after you.”

His fingers are so fleeting when they brush against where she’s wettest that she doesn’t expect one to slip inside. Caroline freezes for a second at the shock of the intrusion, but then he shifts down until his lips are mouthing at her thigh and she leans back against the sheets.

His finger is gentle when it thrusts, just a tiny movement in comparison to the teasing, sucking kisses he leaves on her legs. She’s just about to demand more again when he laps at her clit.

Caroline sighs at the feeling of his tongue, tangling her hand in the soft curls as he licks her over. There is a second finger stretching her now, but it hardly even registers when his mouth is working her so well. In the quiet of the room, with just the crackling fire in the background, her whines are loud. Probably a good thing, for the wet sound of him working between her legs sets her cheeks aflame.

Klaus moves his fingers faster, curling up against the spot that makes her shiver.

She squirms, and then presses up to her elbow to see what he’s doing. Klaus meets her gaze and even though his mouth is otherwise engaged, she recognises his signature smugness. There is a third finger pressing inside. Caroline keens at the sensation, and at the sight of him there.

“Klaus…” she breathes a warning. Her hips roll against his face. When he hums his approval, she does it again. His fingers quicken, pressing slick and hot into her, stretching her open every time his knuckles meet skin. His spare hand finds her breast, pinching at her nipple and drawing a sharp gasp. She throws her head back. It’s tight and hot in her stomach and she knows what’s coming, but it doesn’t make it any less satisfying when the coil snaps.

With his mouth on her clit and his fingers inside, she comes. Caroline has no control over the volume, the sounds which escape her, nor the fierce buck of her hips against his face. She loosens the hand which grips his hair as she comes down, grateful for the slowing of his fingers and then, eventually, their departure.

Klaus sits up. His curls hang loose and untamed, his eyes almost black. She can see the sheen of his lips even in the fire light.

It’s not clear who moves first, but their kiss is a surprisingly gentle thing.

The taste of herself on his lips has Caroline's core clenching again. They break apart. He stays close, pressing her back until she’s comfortable against his sheets. Her hands trail over his arms, his face, his chest. There is no shame. Not anymore.

“Take off your pants,” she murmurs against his lips.

She’s not sure she’s ever seen a man move so quickly in all her life.

When he returns to her, Caroline tries to hide her shock. It’s impossible not to look at the thing between his legs - she’s seen it a hundred times before, but never like that. Never hard, leaking and… well… _that_ big. She can’t help but be intimidated at the thought of it inside of her. Fingers are slim and short, and that _thing_ is anything but.

Perhaps she doesn’t do a great job of masking her apprehension.

Klaus chuckles as he moves to hover over her once again. His hand fists around himself.

Caroline doesn’t know where to look. Her breathing hitches when he groans. Her gaze flickers up to his tight jaw, and back down again.

She is _allowed_ to look now, isn’t she?

Tentatively, she reaches out and strokes along the bare skin of his ribs. She bites at his neck and relishes in his grunt, but it’s the way his hand brushes up and down which fascinates her most. It must feel good, because Klaus makes the filthiest of noises.

It’s easier to be bold when his body is pressed against hers - when she can feel how much he wants her.

Caroline strokes down past his stomach until her hand knocks his out of the way. Klaus stills, and for a second she thinks he’s going to reprimand her.

She can feel his breath from parted lips. It shudders when she shifts her hand, feeling the heat of the skin underneath. It’s thick, hot and slick. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, really, but tries to slide her fingers up and down as he had before.

“Caroline,” he growls above her.

She meets his gaze and is taken by the desperate hunger she finds there. “I want…”

Klaus knows.

One of his hands strokes her breasts, rubbing over where her nipple is still hard and sensitive. The other slips between her legs, dragging the wetness around before slipping fingers inside again.

Caroline squirms impatiently. His fingers are nice, but she knows there is something more they could do.

She wants it. Now.

Perhaps he can feel her need, because he soon knocks her hand away and shifts to tease his member along her centre. As he covers it in the slickness between her legs, Caroline shudders.

Klaus leans down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Ready, love?”

She nods while she wraps her arms around his neck.

He presses his hips forwards.

Her jaw drops as he fills her. It stretches her far wider than his fingers had. She cries, not in pain, but at the delightful press of his body when he settles.

It’s deep. So deep, she’d swear he was in her stomach.

Gentle kisses pepper her face, but she grows restless for more. Caroline runs her palms along his shoulders, his arms, his wrists where they’re framing her head.

The wriggle of her hips is sheer impatience. Klaus doesn’t seem to mind.

He pulls out - an indescribable feeling really, as is the sharp jolt of pleasure when he fills her again. Caroline grabs at him, gasping into his mouth. He makes a pleased noise, thrusting into her again and again while stroking along her thigh until she wraps it around his hips.

Every time he presses into her, she burns a little more.

Her hands wander, scraping through his hair, down his chest, along the small of his back to feel the muscles tighten when he enters her. Little whimpers escape her lips when his hips roll against her centre. It’s good. She wants more.

Klaus lets her get used to the feeling, keeping his pace gentle and deep. When her moans grow needy and demanding, he presses up to his hands and puts some space between them. She only has a second to register his smirk before he flips them both. Caroline yelps, nails biting at his shoulders when he sits up and wraps his arms around her waist.

Impaled in his lap, it feels even deeper. She whines, desperate to feel him moving inside again.

“You’re so beautiful,” Klaus breathes as he grabs at her butt, squeezing it harshly before guiding her hips to rock against his own. “Would you like to ride me, princess?”

Caroline doesn’t know how to answer past the high-pitched keen when her clit rubs against his skin. With the shock of pleasure, she grows bolder.

He holds her, but she’s the one who lifts herself up only to sit back down. There is a tiny buck of his hips when she takes him deep, but by and large Klaus lets her explore. He busies himself by sucking pretty marks on her breasts and biting at her nipples until she shouts.

Caroline quickly learns how she likes it - deep, hard, and with a delicious grind when she takes him all the way inside. The feel of it makes her head fuzzy. Before long, the slow pace she’s set just isn’t enough anymore. She can’t get the angle she really wants, nor the stability to find it.

They kiss again. It gives her just a second to listen - the crack of the fire, the rustle of sheets, the rhythmic wet sounds from between her legs.

When she presses on his chest, he lies flat without complaint. In fact, Klaus has the audacity to grin up at her. His hands stroke along her thighs. “I said I’d have you like this, didn’t I?”

Caroline braces her hands on his chest and rocks harder. It’s better then, because she finds the angle which makes her eyes roll back. She stays there and speeds up.

His voice is like honey when he moans her name.

Her thighs begin to burn but the sensation is too good to even think about stopping. She feels the heat of her climax tight in her gut, just out of reach.

“You look radiant taking your pleasure from me. Keep going, sweetheart. Let me see you come.”

His hand slides between her legs, thumb rubbing at her clit in tight circles. Caroline clenches down on him, a sharp cry escaping when she quickens the pace. She rides him hard, even though the sound of slapping skin is loud. Her climax is so close, she chases and chases until...

The peak is indescribable. She stays there for just a second, jaw dropping at the sensation, before it crashes down on her hard.

His hands grab her hips, holding her tight as he bucks into her. Caroline spasms. Shockwaves of violent pleasure rip through her body and she can’t control the curse she shouts. She tightens around him, only heightening the fierce ecstasy of it. On and on it rolls, until, eventually, it dissipates.

She’s panting, hands on his chest while she twitches in the aftermath. She still feels him, hard and deep inside. Wide eyed, Caroline looks down.

For a beat, that’s it. Just the crackling of the fire, eye contact, and their breathing.

This time when he flips them, it’s gentle. He cradles her head and sets her back on the pillows. Caroline closes her eyes, letting the last of her orgasm shiver up her spine. His kiss is soft against her stomach, her chest, her neck. When she winds a hand in his hair and draws him to her mouth, it’s more contentment than hunger that has her sighing.

He pulls away sooner than she’d have liked. His hands caress where her thighs are wrapped around his waist before setting her calves upon his shoulders and lining himself up to her heat.

He presses in quickly this time. Caroline cries at the depth and intensity of it so soon after her climax. Lips press to her ankle to soothe her, but she writhes all the same, breathing curses into the night.

Klaus is gentle when he rocks into her, but not slow. Each time he hits deep, she whimpers as the air is pushed from her lungs. The sensitivity of her past orgasm quickly fades into throbbing desire, the kind that makes her whine and fist at the bedsheets. It’s too much and not enough in equal measure. She’s driven crazy one thrust at a time.

When Klaus chuckles, she quietens.

“What do you need, love? Ask me for it.”

She gawks at him. It’s a funny sight, really, with her legs over his shoulders and the hard lines of him thrusting into her. Instead of making her laugh, it heightens her arousal. She tenses around him and enjoys the sharp grunt it earns.

“Do you like it when I speak, princess? Come on. Tell me what you’d like and I’ll give it to you.” His voice is lilting and devastatingly attractive, though not entirely unaffected, Caroline notices. He is gruff, panting and she relishes the sight of his skin bearing marks from her nails.

Her cheeks warm. “Harder,” she offers.

The next thrust makes her jaw drop. A brutal, vicious thing which hits every place she needs it to. Caroline throws her head back. Her hands move to squeeze at her breasts.

Klaus growls, watching her hungrily. “Hard enough?”

 _Yes_.

It’s almost automatic, the way her mind moves to antagonise him. “No,” Caroline finds herself teasing even though her voice breaks off to a high-pitched keen. “Faster. Please, God, faster.”

She yells when he delivers. His hips snap into her at a savage pace, the force of his thrusts making the bed jolt against the stone flags. Caroline is lost to it. There is nothing for her to hold onto - the sheets, the tapestry above their heads, the headboard, nothing can ground her. She cries at the pleasure of it, her legs numb while the rest of her tingles.

Klaus’ groans and sharp grunts join the fast slapping sound of his skin against hers.

Her orgasm surprises her, but sends her reeling all the same.

She screams at first, arching and rocking while the feeling overtakes her. Then, the power of it steals the air from her lungs and she can hardly breathe let alone shout. It is long and unbroken.

Klaus hammers into her, hitting deep spots which make her convulse.

When she manages to gasp a breath, she reaches for him. Klaus goes easily, though his hips don’t stop their pounding.

The kiss is filthy and wet, her shaking with oversensitivity and him chasing his own orgasm. Once she tightens around him in the aftermath of her peak, it doesn’t take long.

Klaus comes inside, throbbing between her legs while his head rests on her shoulder. His groan is a delicious sound, one she wants to hear him make over and over.

As he shudders, she strokes quivering fingers through his hair and kisses at his temple.

The peace lasts for just a minute. Then he leans up to kiss her more chastly.

When Klaus has pulled out, stripped back the sheets and tugged them over their bodies, he reaches for her.

Caroline curls up in his arms and together they watch the last of the fire burning.

Sometime later, when she’s started to doze, he asks her, “was it what you thought?”

She thinks about sassing him, but in her sleepiness, she decides that she really can’t be bothered. “Better,” she breathes back.

Caroline wakes first. The curtains are drawn, but she can see the cracks of sunlight splitting through the dark drapes. She shuts her eyes again, basking in the warmth of their bed and the smell of his cologne when she presses her nose against the pillowcase.

Eventually, he wakes too. She feels him shift behind her and wonders if he’ll try to wake her.

Sure enough, it’s not long before an arm bands around her waist beneath the sheets. At the back of her neck and along her bare shoulder, soft kisses are laid. If he was going to wake her, this is how she’d want it to be.

He settles then, seeming perfectly content to hold her despite the hardness brushing up against her backside. More sleep isn’t a bad idea, but she’s been dozing for some time and is already restless to talk to him.

She shifts slowly, caressing his forearms. A little pleased noise keens close to her ear. Another kiss. Then his hand wanders. First down to stroke at her thighs, over her backside, her arms, her breasts. By the time he’s done, Caroline is sighing her arousal and arching back against him.

They don’t speak after all. Instead, Klaus lifts her leg and bundles her in his arms. He slips inside her with a shuddering breath and takes her slowly. When they hit their peak, it’s with muffled moans and gentle touches. Yes, that’s exactly how Caroline wants to wake up for the rest of her life.

Later, they bathe together. She manages to half-clothe herself before Klaus sets her on the dining table, spreads her legs and eats her for breakfast.

It’s a wonder that they make it to the carriage on time. As Klaus bids farewell to his family (minus Kol, who was suffering the worst hangover of them all), Caroline hugs her mom. It’s a short goodbye with few words left to be said and sore heads aplenty.

When they’re sitting side by side in the carriage, as they have done so many times before, Klaus wraps an arm around her shoulders. She watches out the window as unfamiliar fields pass. They’re heading north, to the King’s country estate where they can honeymoon in peace for a while.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks.

Caroline chooses her words carefully. “It doesn’t feel that different, does it? Being married?”

“No,” he smirks, “not much has changed. Though I have already discovered that you are far less quarrelsome in the bedroom.”

“Don’t get comfortable, there is plenty of time for that to change.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Rolling her eyes, she entwines her fingers with his.

It’s hard to explain the mixture of emotions - the nostalgia for three long years of carriage rides, the happiness at their marriage, the embarrassment (or was it arousal?) at his allusions, the contentment of being blissfully alone, and then, something she hadn’t felt over the last few weeks - the weight of duty on her shoulders.

It takes her some time to wrestle with the feeling, to pinpoint exactly why her stomach is fluttering. “Klaus…” she begins, “what now? Once we’ve returned home, how long before they start pressuring you for an heir?”

Klaus’ thumb strokes gently over her hand, a soothing gesture meant to calm her tone. “They shan’t pressure me at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because I intend to let them hear you scream every night. It shall be hard to imply that we are not doing our duty after that.”

Caroline flushes pink at the idea. It was impossible, really. The royal chambers were entirely separate from the council ones, and the thick stone walls of the palace held most sounds inside each room. If anyone had heard them last night, it’d be the guards patrolling the corridors, or in the worst case scenario, his family. That thought alone is mortifying.

She can’t think about it for too long, so reverts back to the original point. Caroline thinks of the women she’s heard about - ladies in the village she used to live in and old queens who came well before her time - who didn’t produce an heir for their husbands. It never ended well for them. Divorced, beheaded, or shunned from polite society for being barren. Was that what awaited her one day? She didn’t think Klaus would ever subject her to the first two, but the last one…

Well, Caroline knows first-hand how good people are at ostracising those they deemed unworthy.

She can hardly help herself from asking the question, “what if we did have one?”

Klaus shifts against her. She can feel his gaze on her cheek and the concern in his voice pulls at her heartstrings. “Is there something you mean to tell me?”

“No,” she replies quickly. She’d mixed herself a contraceptive potion last week. Then the morning of her wedding, her mother had slipped a vial onto the dining table next to her breakfast tea. She’d taken that one too, just to be safe. “No. I wouldn’t… Not unless you wanted it.”

“Do you?”

It’s not an easy question to answer. A few years ago, she’d have nodded instantly. The village children were sweet, and though she didn’t have any siblings of her own, she enjoyed watching the babies when their mother’s needed a rest. But now? After three years of believing that she’d never have a husband, never mind a child, her thoughts are more muddled.

After some time, she settles on, “maybe someday.”

When he falls quiet, she risks a glance. The frown he wears is heavy and his gaze doesn’t meet her own until Caroline strokes her fingers across his cheek. She’s just about to retract the statement when he opens his mouth to speak.

“You know what my children would be.”

“Yes.”

“And you would have them anyway?”

Caroline would have rolled her eyes at the paranoia were it not so heartbreaking. She presses her fingers back until they tangle in his hair. After all this - Mikael’s death, his moonlight ring, their marriage - Klaus still doesn’t understand. “Yes,” she nods.

“Because you feel that it is your duty as my wife.”

It comes easily, “because I love you.” Caroline ignores the widening of his eyes and carries on, “I would have your children, but only if that is what you wanted. If you don’t, it’s fine.”

“You love me.”

She fights a fond smile at the boyish wonder. Her cheeks warm. “Klaus.”

“Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to look like that? Caroline turns back to the window and settles back against his chest. She can feel how he rests his cheek against her head.

Klaus is quiet for a while, though his arm warms her shoulders. When he speaks, she can tell that he’s chosen his words carefully.

“If it were to happen. I suppose it would not be such a hardship.”

Caroline hears just the tiniest hint of a smile in his tone before his lips press to her temple. She understands what he had meant to say. Her own words repeating back to her - _maybe someday_. Not quite a commitment, but not a rejection either.

There is a vulnerability from him that is so rare, so soft and so fleeting, she can’t find the right words to reply for fear of scaring it away.

Instead, she hums a gentle agreement and rubs a thumb over the back of his hand.

A conversation for another day. One they’d have together, alone and - in true Klaus style - probably naked.

As she hides her smile at the thought against his arm, Klaus mutters close to her ear with finality, “worse things have happened.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at euvixen. You can also come and hang out with us in the Klaroline Discord server where this fic was born!
> 
> As always, massive thanks to Yokan for the encouragement, permission to write this, and endless support.
> 
> And lastly, a big thank you to everyone who left a lovely comment on Could I Choose You? What a wonderful and lovely thing to have done. Thank you so much. Please do drop a comment below if you liked this!


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